


Fertility Rites

by kaiz



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-04-12
Updated: 2001-04-12
Packaged: 2017-10-09 18:22:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/90228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaiz/pseuds/kaiz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Methos and Kronos in springtime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fertility Rites

Pink and white blossoms shower you, cascade down upon your shoulders and wreath his dark hair -- spring frost and froth borne by the restless wind. Their fragrance is exotic, heady. Rich with sex and decadence.

You think of long-ago nights of wine-drenched passion. Sugar dates licked from his fingers. The thick length and breadth of him nestled deep and warm. And you pause to smile and remember.

But your hand is clasped, held, and you are quickly tugged forward through the garden, bare feet soundless in the soft grass.

"Surely you aren't afraid, brother," he says. His eyes are the dark, antique gold of passion waiting, lust deferred.

Afraid? You laugh softly. "Not at all, Methos. The old gods are dead, and these new ones are weak. Impotent."

"Impotent?" He pauses beneath the rough-hewn cross of yew and presses you down. Down so that your knees rest on the earth, your cheek presses against his leather-clad thigh. "Then, let us show these eunuchs the meaning of fertility," he says.

His thigh is like marble. The tight, smooth-grained leather is satin, rich patterned silk, beneath your palm. And the very tip of his cock--when you release it from its trappings--is wet, where your fingers touch and your tongue longs to taste.

"Oh yes," you say. "Let us. Now."

And you show this new god, these weak and craven, gelded priests of Christ, of the love that men make.

_Finis._

**Author's Note:**

> Contains blasphemy and schmoop.


End file.
